Watching
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow contemplates her new vice.  S3, singleshot.


Author: Lucinda

Rated y-14 just to be safe and for a bad word.

Contains mention of multiple season 3 canon pairings.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone that appeared on screen for BtVS.

Distribution: anyone who has permission for previous Willow-centric fics.

Notes: set in season 3, after Angel's return is known.

……………………………

She shouldn't be here. She had no right to be watching him like this, when he didn't, couldn't know about her presence.

When he slept.

Willow knew that this was wrong. Probably wrong with a capital W, but she was here, watching him anyhow. Again. Watching as sleep stripped away every defense that he had, every mask to keep the world from knowing who he was, what sort of passions and emotions coursed through him. Angel was defenseless as he slept, and the sunlight kept him inside his house.

While it would have been creepy on a lot of levels, she could have understood if Giles were watching him. After all, Giles was a Watcher, and while that didn't mean 'voyeur', which conjured up so many images of things that it would be rude and intrusive and wrong to watch, he and they were supposed to find things out and learn. What could be more fascinating then a chance to study him when his defenses were down?

She could have understood if Xander had been watching. Xander hadn't ever really trusted Angel, not as a 'good guy', only going as far as to believe that Angel had it in for some of the scarier, nastier things out there. After Angel had gone evil, and then gone to hell, and then come back… Nobody was surprised by Xander's continued suspicions. And then there was the jealousy angle, with the way Xander'd had a crush on Buffy, and how even Cordelia had a sort-of-thing for Angel. Though why Xander was involved with Cordelia, of all people… Not the point.

It would have made the most sense if Buffy had been the one watching him. After all, how many times did her friend go on and on about the 'forbidden love' between them? How many times did she lament and complain about the many obstacles they faced? How many times did she moan about all the things they couldn't do and the things they'd never have?

But Buffy only went by in the late afternoon, after Angel would be up and about. She'd talk about 'interrupting Angel's Tai Chi practice' or finding him reading 'thick old books'. She never slept with him, or lurked, watching as he slept. Willow wasn't even sure if they'd slept together when they'd slept together, though she didn't dwell too much on that.

She was the only one who did that. The only one who invaded his privacy like this. She knew it was wrong. So very wrong on so many levels.

Willow had tried to stop watching him. She'd told herself to think of Oz, and how hurt and upset he'd be if he knew where she was while he was practicing with the Dingos. She'd told herself that it wasn't healthy to spy on a vampire like this, even if he was soul-having again.

It hadn't worked. She still found herself here, watching Angel as he slept. Seeing the emotions chase themselves across his face as he dreamed. She could tell if they were happy dreams or scary dreams from the way he'd move, the expressions, the small noises that he made. She could tell when he dreamed of what his demon had done, and it wasn't just the sharp teeth or the low growls. More unsettling, she could tell when he dreamed of things that he'd still like to do, hissing at things she couldn't see, his lips pulling back from sharp teeth.

It was more addictive than soap operas. It left her way more guilty than reading silly or smutty romance novels. Watching Angel even left her more guilty than looking at porn or reading those interesting stories on the internet, the ones that she'd never, ever tell anyone about. This was her guilty pleasure.

One day, she'd manage to stop herself from watching Angel like this. Maybe she'd have the strength to stay away, to let him sleep unobserved. Or maybe she'd stay until he woke up.

But not today.

Willow slipped back out of the mansion, her shoes barely making any noise on the wooden floors. The door shut behind her, and she blinked in the bright sunlight.

"Sleep well, Angel," Willow walked away from the house, the guilt rising again in her stomach. "Sleep well, because I'll be watching."

End Watching.


End file.
